A Story of Titanic: Genevieve
by IndividualImagine
Summary: Genevieve is returning back to New York to meet her new fiance. This is the most exciting trip of her life, though she is constantly obsessing about dissapointing her new beau.
1. Chapter 1

A story of Titanic: Genevieve

As I stepped off the carriage, smoke and food from street venders drafted into my nose.. The sky was grey, with a smoggy film intertwining with the clouds. People rushed along the street, bumping into one another and shouting curse words. Everyone was bustling and hurrying, getting their bags and waiting to board the ship. It was the most exciting day of my life. I was returning to America after living with my parents in South Africa for five years. I loved the safari, but I knew New York was my home.

"Come along now, Genevieve, dear." My mother pushed me along as I watched three young sailors preparing their tugboat. I imagined working with them, getting my hands dirty with grease and the feel of the smooth wheels. I always wished I could be something else, though my life was so grand and exciting. My father worked for the Lipton Tea Company as the head American supervisor. My mother came from the wealth of a railroad entrepreneur and was forced to marry my father to keep their social status. Though my father was already in love with a woman, Francine Montreaus, he made the marriage work and fell in love with my mother.

Unfortunately, I'm going down his path though I have never experienced love. I will board the Titanic to meet my fiancé in New York City. We have already exchanged letters and he seems to be a very polite and respectful man. I am eager to meet him. However, I am worried. I am a plain girl, not one of extravagant beauty, though I am not ugly. I admit I am far too self conscious, but how can I not be when I have never met this boy, he who has sent his picture already to me. He has light brown hair and dark brown eyes, his nose is slightly large though perfectly proportionate for his cheekbones and arched eyebrows. I am already infatuated with him, but the terror that we will have no chemistry; what if he is in love with another woman? I think too much.


	2. Chapter 2

A Story of Titanic: Genevieve

I knew Titanic was a new leap in life. The grandest ship; unsinkable and luxurious. My family had gone on ships before, but for whatever reason, this ship had something; not special, but more like…the feeling was incomprehensible. Titanic was a ship with feeling indescribable, a feeling in which you can't explain whatsoever. Nervousness and worry plagued my thoughts as I watched couples board Titanic. I predicted seeing myself walking behind my fiancé, treated at his luggage and property. I stepped on to the bridge that led me into "The Ship of Dreams". I thought of how heavy the trunks were that were being shipped already to New York, and I felt bad for the men who had to carry them, but was happy I didn't have to do so. The men behind me held all 15 of my bags. About half of them contained my dresses and unmentionables, the other half contained my shoes and accessories. I never enjoyed dressing. I felt that corsets and petticoats were impractical. At the age of 12, I came home from a football (soccer) game in Zimbabwe wearing a pair of maroon bloomers. They were all the rage; no women had ever dared to wear pants before. As soon as I reached my home in South Africa, my mother slapped her hand across my face.

"How dare you embarrass our family like this? Do you think this kind of stunt will earn you attention?" my mother lectured me for what seemed to feel like forever. She made it her goal to perfect my manners and make me, in her eyes, the perfect young woman. I will never forget the sting her slap left, the sting of the cruel treatment my mother presented me with from early childhood.

Being eighteen, I was the last of my family's young women to get married. My mother eyed my every move as I stepped carefully and gracefully through the ship's doors. The fresh paint gave me a headache and I could feel the almost immediate bobbing of the ship. I figured it was in my head, but I was immediately nauseated. I hid it however; I couldn't make a bad impression to all of the examining snobs around us. Sure, some of them were like me. They had personalities and such, but did any of them want to escape as badly as I did?

We were greeted as we entered our deck. The same thing every time. A kiss on the cheek and/or hand. A curtsy here, a bow from a waiter there. I dreamed of the crowding in the lower deck. The frenzy of people, the yelling of different languages as people searched for their cabins. What I would give just to attend the middle class dinners. To not be pestered constantly, to not be analyzed. The third class, I wasn't as sure about. They were constantly harassed and ridiculed, but the freedom. Was it worth it? Was the struggle, the hard work, was it all worth it?

I bumped someone in mid thought. She had snow white skin and red hair. We apologized to each other, for our mothers were watching the both of us. As they scolded us for being clumsy, we both smiled at each other. Just another girl with the same mother, maybe she wanted out too. I wondered if she would turn out like her mother in the future. I often wondered if maybe my mother was once free minded and thoughtful. The world was full of this drive, this drive to be perfect and strict. What if before me, my mother wanted out?


End file.
